20 Years

I’m sitting at my desk staring blankly at the computer monitor waiting for 5 to come around. I’m dozing off like an infant and the coffee I’m drinking is doing nothing but irritating my stomach. I’m listening to the Bavarian Fruit Tree album and in between my stumbles in and out of consciousness I can’t help but think about how I remember hearing about Hope Sandoval’s new band releasing the album back in 2001 and how I made a mental note to check it out, yet at this very moment I just finished listening to it for the very first time. I had been listening to The Sundays earlier on YouTube and somehow made my way to Hope Sandoval and decided to give the album a go. Not quite sure how to process it other than It’s definitely hitting in a je-nais-se-quoi type of way. I wonder if it would’ve felt the same way had I listened to it back when I was 19. I suppose it doesn’t really matter. I’m rather glad I can feel it the way I do. There’s a song on there that within the first 5 seconds I knew was going to be engrained in my head. It’s called Suzanne. Before hearing it I hoped that it would be a cover. It wasn’t, but it didn’t negate it’s magic. In the chorus, Hope sings “Suzanne, Suzanne”, and the male counterpart legitimately sounds like Leonard Cohen. Don’t know what that means, if anything, but I think it’s pretty fuckin’ cool. Two different songs of the same name, of their own identities and their own dimensions have become intertwined in my head. It’s now part of the somber soundtrack of my psyche. My heart listens to it like an exhausted tree bough full of golden, dying leaves swaying in a cold breeze; watching each leaf fall to the ground.